Making Do
by Cupe
Summary: Flynn is scared that one day Yuri might decide he prefers them, prefers the non-abrasive company of like-minded people, and that he won't come back. Spoilers for Zaude.


_**(Written for the_morningstar616 on AO3 and DreamWidth. She asked for Yuri/Flynn angst. This...Turned out more like fluff than angst but there's some in there, if you squint.)**_

**Making Do**

_You're the sky that I fell through_  
><em> And I remember the view whenever I'm holding you<em>:  
><em> The sun hung from a string<em>  
><em> Looking down on the world as it warmed over everything<strong><strong>_

Yuri should have known that the first thing Flynn would do once everything had calmed down would be to drag him off to the nearest tent to inspect his wounds.

Scar would be the better term, really, as all that remained to show that the events atop Zaude had really, truly happened, was a thin brown-red mark on his abdomen that was already beginning to fade at the edges. Yuri flinched all the same when Flynn's calloused fingers traced it, the scar tissue still feeling sensitive and unnatural.

"Sorry..." Yuri sighed at the guilty tone in Flynn's voice, sitting back on the bed and scooting over,

"Stop pulling that face. It doesn't suit you, Commandant," he drawled, enjoying the way his friend tensed up and blushed,

"S-shut up, Yuri!" Still so modest, and fun to tease. Yuri smirked,

"Come here and make me?" He had tried to sound sweet and romantic, but that was hard when he was trying not to laugh, and it came out almost mocking. Flynn didn't seem to notice, though. He growled under his breath, clenching a fist up as if he intended to punch Yuri for being a pain and almost getting himself killed, but seemed to think better of it and began to remove his armour instead, muttering none-too quietly,

"Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you," he gave Yuri a long-suffering look, which the latter met with a goofy grin,

"Maybe because I'm a lot better lookin' than an empty bed?" Flynn doesn't look convinced, but Yuri knows it's just because he's exhausted, and that he's probably worrying about a thousand different things right now. That thought makes him soften, and he gently pats the bed next to him,

"C'mon you, I'd feel better if you gave me a kiss." The mattress dips dramatically as Flynn sinks next to him, but neither of them pay it any mind as their lips meet for the first time since that short night in Zaphias. Flynn noses his way into the crook of Yuri's neck, and Yuri smiles as he feels the tension seep out of the warm body pressed against his own when he wraps his arms around it.

He knows he shouldn't give Flynn such a hard time, that he's been working his arse off keeping everyone happy. He'd heard the stories from the other refugees scattered around the camp. That Flynn just couldn't say no to anyone. He was too nice, really. He sighed and sank his fingers into Flynn's hair, smirking at the groan of annoyance Flynn made against his throat as he made the short locks even messier,

"Don't complain. You'd look silly if it actually lay flat like you wanted." Yuri feels warm lips part to make a comment, no doubt concerning their clearly differing ideas of presentability, then close again when Flynn thinks better of it,

"Just shut up," in anyone else's mouth those words would have been harsh, insulting, but Yuri knows Flynn, and this is just his way of letting Yuri win, without the disgrace of letting him win. It's obvious they're both too tired to bother trying to argue, especially over something so pointless.

It's strange how his almost-death has put things into perspective for both of them, more than any other experience ever had.

With as tight as Flynn's holding him, Yuri has a feeling he'll be bruised by tomorrow, but he can't bring himself to complain or move into a more comfortable position. Despite his carefree front he knows that he's pushed Flynn into the harder jobs, letting him take responsibility so that he can escape the bondage that followed the glory of becoming a hero.

"...Yuri?" He hadn't realised that he was drifting off until Flynn's voice halts the drooping of his head, the room coming into better focus when he opens his eyes properly to look down at the blond tufts under his chin,

"Yeah, Flynn?" He raises a hand to gently pet his hair, turning the locks over his fingers as he waits for a reply.

"...You'll come back, won't you?" Yuri sighs. They both know he won't hang around here for long. Hyponia hadn't ever appealed to him, and a rag-tag bunch of tents certainly wasn't going to sweeten him to it any. Flynn's presence, however...

"Hey, like I said, we'll help out as much as we can, right? I ain't going anywhere just yet." He smiles, kisses the top of Flynn's head and shifts so he can look directly into those troubled blue eyes of his, "You can stop worrying now. I survived a fall off a huge rock, didn't I? I'm not a delicate little flower, have some faith."

"That's not it," Flynn shakes his head, looking past Yuri at the wall, "you know that I believe in you more than anyone else ever could but..." but Yuri has those people with him now. Friends. And Flynn is scared that one day Yuri might decide he prefers them, prefers the non-abrasive company of like-minded people, and that he won't come back.

Yuri kisses him, distracting him from those ridiculous notions, "Idiot," he pushed Flynn onto his back, flopping on top of him with just enough restraint to prevent knocking all the breath out of him, kisses him again, "quit being such a worry wart will you? Save it for yourself, okay?" He smiled, waiting for Flynn's lips to mirror it before taking them again, deciding to have his lover forget his misplaced anxiety in the best way he knew.

The sex was as great as they both remembered, only barely hindered by Yuri grimacing during a particularly violent thrust, which caused Flynn to pin him with that look, the one that always made him feel slightly guilty, slightly, and carefully manoeuvre Yuri onto his back. He claimed it meant that Yuri moved as little as possible, aggravating the healing tissue less. Yuri would have complained but having Flynn on top gave him the most amazing visual of his lover flushed with ecstasy and shaking slightly as he lowered himself down onto Yuri's cock over and over again.

Man, if these were the rewards he might have to look into toppling off tall structures more often, even if it meant enduring Flynn's mother-henning and those worried little looks that both annoyed and endeared him.

Though, as Flynn snuggled up into him drowsily afterwards, murmuring something barely intelligible about how that had been The Best Sex Ever (since the last time, anyway), Yuri figured that, were he to fall from another height, he might just not have a precious artefact in his possession that would lead to his being saved before deadly impact. Yeah, it was probably better to make do with what he had.

He nuzzled Flynn and gently ran his hand up and down his back, lightly massaging the knots of tension he found there, smiling at the frankly adorable noises his lover made.

Making do was more than fine so long as he had this.


End file.
